


Living for another day

by theonsfavouritetoy



Series: Living for You [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Drunk Sex, Goodbyes, Hate Sex, Hate to Love, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, pure self-indulgance that is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-08-29
Packaged: 2018-12-16 03:13:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 12,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11820057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theonsfavouritetoy/pseuds/theonsfavouritetoy
Summary: Theon hates Jon. Jon hates Theon. Do they?





	1. Jon

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is, my first try at fanfiction, at GoT, at this particular ship, at writing in general...
> 
> please bear with me and please, please don't hesitate to give constructive advice! I can use any help I get!
> 
> Also, English isn't my first language and I have no Beta reader, so if you find some misspelling or something like that, I'd be grateful if you'd point it out

"Jon!!"

Jon sighed. Of course Robb would come to the pools tonight, when Jon wanted to be alone so desperately. And, even worse, Robb had Greyjoy in his tow.  
He let himself sink deeper into the water. He really didn't want Robb to see.

"Why didn't you say you were gonna be here, Snow? Want to be alone?" Robb scowled.

Jon threw Greyjoy a quick glance. The Ironborn didn't even look at him.

"Nah.. I've a headache, but it's better now. I really should get an early rest tonight. See you tomorrow, Stark."

Robb and Greyjoy now sat at the edge of the pool. Jon threw Greyjoy another look and this time he was looking back at him. Jon narrowed his eyes, and for once that stupid shit understood immediately.

"Hey, Robb. What kind of tree is that over there?"

Jon bristled. That was all he got?? Still, it was worth a try. Quickly he pulled himself out of the pool, but he hadn't even had time to grab his tunic when Robb didn't find the trees that fascinating anymore.

"Jon!!!! Gods, what -?!"

Jon threw the tunic over his head as fast as he could, but of course it was too late. Robb had already seen the marks on his neck, his wrists, his arms, his hips. He'd also seen the bruises on his ass.

"Don't get all worked up, Stark, it's nothing. I.. I fell."

Robb was already by his side, taking a stunned Jon by the shoulders and turned him around. Before Jon could protest, Robb had him unceremoniously bent over and examined his behind.

"Seven hells, Robb, will you stop that?? I told you, I fell!"

"On a cock?!?! You're all red and purple and raw down there. Gods, Jon, is that blood??"

Jon fought to get up straight and shoved Robb aside. 

"Shut it, Robb. It's nothing."

Robb looked serious.

"It's NOT nothing, Jon. Who did this to you? Tell me who did this and I'll have his head!"

Jon's head jerked up at these words. He looked over Robb's shoulder, where Greyjoy was still at the pool, all colour drained from his face. He looked like he was going to faint. Good.  
Jon narrowed his eyes and looked back at Robb.

"Well, thank you, Stark. But, as I've told you at least a hundred times now, it. Is. Nothing. And if need be, I'll deal with anything like that myself."

Behind them, Greyjoy let out a staggered breath that made Robb turn around.

"See? Even Theon is shocked, and he's seen it all!"

Has he, Jon thought wryly.


	2. Jon II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon's contemplating his next move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm adding the second chapter right away. Since S07E04 I can't think of anything else anyway.

Back in his chamber, Jon collapsed on the bed. A sharp pain reminded him that it'd be better to lie on his stomach. He really felt dead tired but everytime he closed his eyes, the events of the previous night kept replaying in his head. 

How could it even happen? How could he let it happen? He tried to remember how everything had unfolded, but the memory was quite blurry. 

_Dinner. It was dinner time and he sat with the family until Lady Stark's icy glances became to much to bear and he excused himself. He hadn't felt that hungry anyway. He'd gone to the yard with the vague intention of practising with the sword some more, when he realized he was hungry nevertheless. And angry. He was really hangry. So he stole into the kitchens for something to eat and found not only a slightly burnt pie, but also a jug with some heavy-smelling red wine. He took both and went back to the yard. After he finished his hurried dinner, he stood up. And sat down again. The wine was a lot stronger than anything he was used to and his head was swimming quite a bit. Hiccuping, he got up, grabbed a sword from the armoury and started to clumsily hack away at a straw dummy. Out of the darkness came a low chuckle and Jon bristled._

_"I admire your way with the sword, Snow. You're almost as skilled as Rickon. When he was three."_

_"Shut up, Greyjoy."_

_But the Ironborn didn't even think of shutting up. He came nearer, leaning on a bale of hay, and smirked at Jon._

_"Now, now, Bastard, how are you talking to your betters? Haven't learned to control your temper yet?"_

_He didn't laugh as usual and Jon realized, Greyjoy was twice as drunk as himself and in an exeptionally bad mood. Now that he was so near, Jon could smell him. Ale and cheap perfume wafted off of his clothes and Jon nearly gagged.  
I have to be the sensible one, I have to go, I have to stay calm... But Greyjoy wasn't done yet. _

_"I could swear I've seen you walking to dinner before I left. Trouble with Lady Catelyn? Weren't welcome, huh? And no one to hold you back? No one to speak for you? Not your father, not your brothers and sisters? Poor Snow, nobody loves you. And you're not even interested in any women... Scared they wouldn't like you as well? You're probably right there."_

_Jon's breathing became laboured as he tried to focus on staying calm._

_"Why don't you piss off back to Wintertown for some more LOVE for yourself, Greyjoy? And leave me alone?"_

_Greyjoy looked as if he hadn't heard him at all._

_"Have you really never been with a woman, Snow? Scared they might bite you with their cunts? Or is it that cunts just don't hold any fascination for you at all?"_

_Jon's anger flared up again.  
"Will you just SHUT UP or I'll show you how skilled I am with that sword!" _

_Greyjoy pushed himself from the bale and came, unsteadily, towards him. He looked even angrier than before and his eyes were dark with something Jon could only describe as hate. He Practically spat at Jon. "Get that thing near me and I'll fuck you with it!"_

_Jon couldn't see anything but red anymore. With a furious grunt he lifted the sparring sword to swing it at Greyjoy. But he'd overestimated the Ironborn's drunkenness, and underestimated his own. Greyjoy was over him in a flash and dragged him to the armoury. His anger and hate made him stronger than he really was and Jon didn't get a chance to get to his feet. Once inside, Greyjoy pressed Jon to the ground, ripping his breeches off in one mad tear. Jon stiffened in horror as the cold air hit his bare ass. He struggled to free himself, but Greyjoy had his wrists pinned to the ground and one knee in his back. And Jon really was quite drunk. Jon shoved and pushed, but couldn't get Greyjoy off him._

_Is he going to spank me now?, he thought in horror. That was the most degrading thing that came to his mind. Not even worth a real fight, only some kind of weird... punishment?_

_But then he gasped in shock when he felt something hard probing against his ass, sobering him in an instant. Simultaneously, teeth sank into his neck, a hand grabbed his hair and tore his head back, and Jon screamed in pain. Immediately Greyjoy's Hand covered his mouth and nose and his angry voice hissed into Jon's ear._

_"Don't you dare screaming, bastard, or I swear I'll fuck you to the seven hells and back. You never knew your place and I'm gonna show you. I'm a prince of the Iron Islands, I seized you and now I'm paying the Iron Price for your pretty little asshole. Doing you a favour really, fucking deviant bastard!"_

_And with one brutal thrust, Greyjoy buried himself in Jon. He nearly fainted from the pain, from the lack of air, from the shame that washed over him. How can I let this happen? Why can I not defend myself? Gods - it hurts so much!!! Mercifully it was over quickly and Greyjoy collapsed over Jon's shivering form.  
Suddenly his hand and his weight were gone. Jon gasped at the cold air. When he heard voices and footsteps outside, he panicked. As quickly as he could he picked himself up from the floor, his behind throbbing with pain, tears unconsciously streaming down his face. He pulled up his breeches and, step after agonizing step, dragged himself to his room. No one could see him like that._


	3. Jon III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Atonement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My stupid fantasy is getting the better of me.

Jon, still on his bed, groaned and rubbed his temples. Sleep still seemed miles away.  
Just when he got up to fetch himself a drink of water, someone knocked on his door.

"Get lost!"

But instead of complying, the person on the other side let themselves in.  
Jon didn't turn to face the door. 

"Robb, if that's you, get lost. It's still nothing. If it's anyone else, get lost all the same."

But it wasn't Robb's voice that answered. 

"Save your breath for your soup, Snow. I'm not going anywhere."

Jon's shoulders stiffened. 

"How dare you show your face here..."

"I'm not showing my face. At least you're not even looking at it."

At that Jon turned around in one angry move.  
He'd expected to see the well-known grin on Greyjoy's stupid face, but to his credit he had to note that there was no hint of it.  
Not even in his eyes. His eyes, though. Jon had never seen them look at him like that before. Pale blue, no spark, no laughter. Just an expression that Jon might've confused with guilt, hadn't that been impossible.  
Then he looked down. In his hands, Greyjoy was carrying a huge tablet, stacked with bread, cheese, some meat and a few cakes. Next to the food was a jug of what smelled like mead, a bowl of soup and some small box he couldn't identify.  
Jon gritted his teeth. His stomach growled and he knew he couldn't refuse the food.

"What's all this? You serving as a maid here now?"

Greyjoy didn't seem to mind the insult. 

"You weren't at breakfast. You weren't at dinner. None of the kitchen staff has seen you all day. I figured you'd be hungry."

"How unbelievably kind of you. Put it on the table and then piss off."

Greyjoy put the food on the table, but he didn't piss off.

"For fuck's sake, Snow - that's a freaking peace offering right there, are you too dumb to-"

"A PEACE offering?!? Have you gone MAD??? Do you have a dying wish????" 

Jon knew he shouldn't shout like that, but he couldn't even begin to calm himself. Red hot fury was burning through him when he lunged at Greyjoy, his hands closing around his throath, the two of them clashing into the wall. Greyjoy made no move to defend himself and he looked frightened when Jon snarled at him, furious beyond words.  
Jon tightened his grip around Greyjoy's throat, red veils dancing before his eyes. He felt the other man gasping for air, but still he managed to choke out a strangled whisper.

"I'm.. sorry..."

Jon realized what he was doing and at once released his grip. Greyjoy sank to the floor, hand at his throat, greedily breathing in and out. Then he looked up.

"I thought you were going to kill me, Snow."

"I thought so, too. But it would be too much of a hazzle, what with you being a hostage and such."

"I deserve it."

The last bit was whispered so low that Jon wasn't sure he'd heard right. Some of his anger evaporated.  
He sighed. 

"Up with you. Dying seems a bit much. I can't believe I'm even asking you that, but what the fuck got into you? You hate me, always hated me! I'd never thought you could even bare to touch me, let alone-"  
Jon cringed when the memory flooded his brain again.  
Greyjoy cringed too. 

"I don't know!!! I came back from Wintertown and I was angry and my balls were hurting and you were there and you were drunk and I was drunk and you swung that sword at me and your eyes were so dark and your lips - your fucking lips, Snow, do you have any idea how you look with that angry mouth of yours? I wanted to fuck your mouth right then and there but it felt safer to go inside and then... things got out of control. I didn't really want to hurt you. Yes, I wanted to, but not like that. I was out of my mind, you have to believe me, I'd never do such a thing, not even to you!"

That was the longest Greyjoy had ever spoken to Jon. And Jon was confused. Greyjoy had... wanted him? Like, wanted wanted? He shifted and groaned when another stab of pain shot through him.  
Greyjoy flinched, his eyes burning with shame. 

"I nearly forgot... I brought you something."  
He grabbed the box from the tablet.  
"This is some salve Maester Luwin gave me. It's something akin to milk of the poppy, only not so potent. It numbs the skin. I thought... I thought you could use it."

Jon didn't move, he just kept staring at Greyjoy. The ward's shoulders sacked a little and he turned to the door.

"I'll.. I'll leave you to it. Again, Snow, I'm sorry. I.. don't hate you. Never have. Not really."  
He was nearly out of the door when Jon found his voice again.

"I could use some help here."


	4. Theon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theon's not sure why he's not dead yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we go again

Theon couldn't believe he'd heard right.  
Help Snow? With what..?  
Snow shoved the box in his hands, removed his nightshirt and went to lie on the bed, all the while shooting him angry glances. 

Theon didn't believe his eyes. Snow was lying there and just... waiting? He'd never thought the bastard'd let him anywhere near his ass again.

"Are you helping me now or what?"  
His voice was still angry, but there was also a challenge underneath that anger.  
Theon complied.

As careful as he was able to, he took some of the salve and softly rubbed it over the teeth mark on Snow's neck. The bloody bastard was sighing with relief, and Theon cursed himself, cursed Snow, cursed Maester Luwin and his sodden salve, cursed them all. This was pure torture. And well deserved.

After tending to all of Snow's bruises, Theon hesitated. Should he really..?  
Snow took the decision from him.

"Greyjoy. My ass, as you must be well aware, hurts like mad. Do something about it, or I'll choke you again."  
Again, Theon complied quietly.  
Snow growled into his pillows. It had to hurt being touched on his sore hole, but he didn't utter a word until Theon was finished.

Theon stood beside the bed, staring at Snow's round cheeks, now glistening with the salve, and was harder then he'd ever been in his life.  
A muffled sound came from the pillows.

"Thank you for your help and now piss off, I really, really, REALLY need some sleep."

Theon turned to leave, but by the time he'd reached the door, Snow's breathing had already become rhythmic and he even snored a little.  
He turned back, back to the bed, sitting next to it on a stool, watching Snow's pale body. After everything that happened, he still trusted Theon enough to sleep in his presence? Theon couldn't believe it.  
He reached out and, tentatively, touched the black curls that hid Snow's face. When the boy stirred slightly, Theon withdrew his hand, hesitated, then dragged the fur covers over him.

"I don't even like you, Snow. You know that? All this sulking in corners, pitying yourself because you're a bastard, not even realizing how good you have it, compared with others... I like to make fun of you because it's so easy to wind you up, then you go sulk some more and I have Robb for myself. He's the only friend I got, really. I don't even know when it started to... turn. All I know is I couldn't stop staring at your mouth, dreaming of it. I went to Wintertown every fucking night to keep the edge off, all the whores and cunts and tits I could handle, but somehow they weren't enough. They were boring me.  
Then I came back and saw you so angry, and I have never wanted anything in my life as I wanted you in that moment."

"Greyjoy?" A drowsy voice startled Theon in his monologue. "All you had to do was ask."


	5. Robb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robb is clueless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted to have Robb's POV for this chapter

Something was amiss.

Robb couldn't lay his finger on it, but something was so not right. He didn't know what it was, what made him think that, nothing.  
It started with Jon, bearing the signs of a non-consensual encounter with another man, but he kept insisting that this wasn't the case. Robb didn't believe him, but he couldn't force his brother to confess anything he didn't want to confess.  
Still, he wanted to murder the man who'd hurt Jon.

And Jon was quieter since. It'd been nearly a fortnight and Jon didn't engage in any activities at all. Sure, he was training with Robb, learning with him, eating with him when Robb's lady mother allowed it.  
But no more laughing, no more going to the pools, no more drinking... When the day's duties were done, Jon returned to his chambers, locked himself in and wasn't seen nor heard until the next day's training.  
Robb couldn't bear it. He loved his half-brother dearly and seeing him isolating himself like that hurt him more than he let on. But no one could get Jon to do anything he didn't want.

Theon behaved strange as well. He didn't went to Wintertown anymore. He wasn't after the serving girls. The arrogant smirk that usually lingered on his face had left completely. No more bantering from him, at all.  
Robb didn't recall when Theon started to be like that, but it must've been around the same time Jon started his eremitical behaviour. Robb's attention had been focused on Jon and he hadn't noticed about Theon's changed attitude immediately. 

Only when the three of them were together practising, everything seemed close to normal to Robb. He and Theon sparred and japed, Jon was serious and concentrated. And the two of them ignored each other completely. Nothing unusual there.  
Until one day.

Jon was especially worked up that day. He hacked away at Ser Rodrik, until the master of arms was drenched in sweat. Finally, he held up a hand.

"Enough, Jon Snow. Whoever it is you want to kill, I'm not him!" 

Jon breathed hard. Everyone could see he wasn't done yet, but no one wanted to submit himself to that kind of fury. Even Jory, Ser Rodrik's nephew and one of the best fighters at Winterfell, made no move to spar against Jon.  
Then Robb thought his eyes would pop out of his head, when Theon came forward, sword in his shaking hand, taking the place opposite Jon.

"Theon! Are you mad?? He'll kill you when he's like this. Sorry, but you're not that good with a sword!"

Jon snarled at Robb's words and Theon shrugged.  
"Don't worry, Stark, I can handle myself."  
But the fear in his eyes betrayed the nonchalant words. 

Theon raised his sword and Jon was over him in a heartbeat, thrashing his sword against Theon's, again and again. Too soon he had slapped it out of Theon's hand.  
Theon held up his arms. "I yield"

But Jon didn't seem to hear him. He battered the sword against Theon's upper body, against his hips, his legs, his arms. He thrashed him.  
Robb wanted to scream at him to stop, but Ser Rodrik held him back. 

"Let him take the beating. Snow has suffered a long time under your friend's hard words. Who knows what he did this time. Jon won't kill him."

But why did Theon take this thrashing so defenseless, so wordlessly? The only thing coming from his lips were groans and huffs of pain when the blunt sword hit him again and again and again. Until he sank to his knees. But Jon didn't stop there. With a near-scream he raised the sword to bring it down on his opponent's unguarded neck.

"Snow! Enough! What's possessing you, for fuck's sake?!" Robb shouted, panicking. The practicing swords could still do a lot of damage. Jon didn't seem to mind Robb's voice, but then Theon looked up at Jon and it was as if time stood still for a moment. Everyone on the courtyard held their breath. It suddenly seemed like an execution. Then, with a loud clanking sound, the sword fell out of Jon's hand and onto the ground. He took one step back, then another. Suddenly, he turned around and quickly left in direction of the Godswood. The sense of relief around the courtyard was palpable.

Robb hurried to kneel beside Theon. 

"Seven hells, Theon, are you alright?" 

He helped him stand up.

"I'm fine, Stark. This surely was a harsh fight. I'm gonna be sore all over for the next couple of days. Didn't know the bastard had it in him like that"  
Theon grinned but Robb couldn't think of anything less funny.

"This was no fight, Theon. Jon could've murdered you!"  
"Maybe. But he didn't."


	6. Theon II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theon gets what he deserves, and some.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can't stop. Seriously.

The next day Theon wasn't keen on leaving his room. He wasn't even able to stand up properly. Every inch, every muscle in his body was aching, throbbing with pain. He didn't complain. He'd deserved it, didn't he? It had been the perfect opportunity for Snow to get back at him, if only a little bit.

Theon had hoped Robb would visit him today, so he could ask him for something to eat. He was so hungry... But when he carefully stalked to the window he could see some Karstark bannermen in the yard. Shit. Robb would be entertaining those unannounced guests all day and no one would bother to look after Theon.

He slowly crept back to bed, his arms nearly failing as they pulled the covers over his body. Shit, even the touch of the fur hurt him today.  
Wearily he closed his eyes and drifted back into an uneasy sleep. 

When woke up again, the sun was fully up and someone was sitting in his room. Snow, of course. Mayhaps wanting to finish him for good.  
Snow noticed he was awake. 

"You sore?"

"What do you think, huh? You nearly killed me yesterday."

"Well, good. Let it serve you as a lesson never to come near me again"

"And yet you're here. Is that... did you bring any food by chance?"

Snow didn't smile, but his scowl didn't deepen either.  
"Just a couple of pies. And some ale. And those honey cakes, but they're from Robb. He saved them for you from his breakfast."

Theon closed his eyes in sheer gratitude. Bless Robb and his sweet heart!  
Then he opened them again, only to find the bastard still staring at him, his usual pout firmly set on his face.  
Theon got up. He winced at the movement, but didn't stop until he was at his feet. One step, two, he was in front of Snow and extended a shaky hand. 

"We even now, Snow?"  
He didn't expect to get a fist in his face.  
He didn't expect a fist in his hair, either. 

"We'll never be even, Greyjoy", Snow hissed in his face.  
Theon could feel blood trickling from where Snow had split his lip. He licked it away. Snow stiffened, his eyes turning pitch black with fury, and something else. 

"You utter, utter asshole!"  
He let go of Theon's hair, slowly retreating from him. Theon followed. The next thing he felt was a sharp pain exploding on the side of his head.  
The bastard had hit him again!

"Will you fucking stay away from me now!!"

Theon blinked once, twice. With difficulty, his lip already beginning to swell, he answered.  
"No."

Snow looked like he was about to burst. For the second time in a fortnight, his hands closed around Theon's throat, but he wasn't squeezing it. He just held him, all the while glowering at him, unsure how to proceed. Theon leaned forward. Suddenly he felt himself on the floor. Snow had dropped him like a hot iron, pressing himself to the nearest wall, grasping at it in search of steadiness. 

"I know I already asked this, Greyjoy, but do you really wish to die? You're on the right path then, I swear it!"

Theon didn't bother replying. He just tried to lie as still as possible, his whole body one soaring ache. His lip was bloody and he could feel his left eye beginning to swell closed.  
Snow took one step towards him.

"Greyjoy? Are you dead yet?"  
But he didn't sound so angry anymore. Almost anxious.  
Snow's face came into Theon's vision and his eyes were darkened again, this time by worry as well as anger. 

In one quick move, Theon lifted himself up. It took all the strength he had left at the moment, but he was rewarded when his sore lips met Snow's. Finally.  
And if he was to be killed for that kiss, so be it.


	7. Jon IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon is furious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who left Kudos! Every single one of them is treasured :)

Jon was furious. Utterly, unbearably, earth-shakingly furious. One of these days he was just going to implode.  
He thought he could let it go. Have Greyjoy mend what hurt he'd caused, make him as uncomfortable as possible, and be done with it. 

And Jon had been so relieved when the pain subsided, he was out cold in mere seconds, didn't even have time to worry about being nearly unconscious with Greyjoy still there. But then he felt himself surface again, feeling a touch on his hair, stirring in fear of what was to come next. But the only thing touching him were the furs being pulled over his body. He nearly was out again, when Greyjoy started to whisper to him, no doubt thinking he was sleeping.

"...I have never wanted anything in my life as I wanted you in that moment."  
Jon's heart skipped a beat and his stupid, treacherous mouth answered before Jon could stop it. 

"All you had to do was ask."

Where the hell had that come from? He hated Greyjoy, hated him for his snarks, his cruel japes, his attitude - and even more now, for what he'd done to him. But there was a tiny part of him that whispered,  
...really? Liar.

Jon couldn't stop thinking about this whole fucked-up business for the best part of the two following weeks. He avoided Greyjoy, even avoided to be alone with Robb.  
But the more he thought, the more the anger grew inside him. Letting go didn't seem a possibility anymore. He simply couldn't. He felt a part of him had been taken away for good, and it made him more furious every day.

Jon could barely walk straight anymore with all the rage burning through him all the time. Couldn't sleep. Until the day he finally burst.  
He'd already worn out Ser Rodrik and still he needed to hit someone so badly. It was with a strange kind of satisfaction he'd seen Greyjoy step forward, ready to take the thrashing he deserved so much.  
And Jon gave it to him. 

He would've killed him. He wanted to kill him. Robb's cry had startled him out of his bloodlust though, and when Greyjoy looked up at him, eyes burning in shame, regret, pain and pure surrender, Jon's fury was gone like it had never been there in the beginning. Jon fled to the Godswood. And for once, he couldn't think of nothing at all. 

Robb had woken him early the next morning, face all serious and lordly, demanding to have breakfast with him right away. Jon complied, his head still dizzy.  
They ate silently, Robb all the while watching him with some kind of reproachfull curiosity. When they both had finished, Robb cleared his throat. 

"I'm not even pretending to know what's going on, Jon. But something's apparently the matter with you and you let it out on Theon. You hurt him a lot yesterday. You ought to go and apologize. Take him some food. He won't be able to do much today."

Jon shrugged his shoulders.  
"He didn't seem to mind that much. Have to give him some credit for that. Why don't you go to him if you worry that much, by the way?"

Robb rolled his eyes.  
"Karstarks are coming. Father only told me yesterday. I'm expected to be with him during their visit. I don't know how long they'll stay."

"So that's why you wanted to break fast with me so early. So the bastard'd be out of the way when the high guests come. Why am I not surprised."

Robb shot him a hurt look.  
"Because I wanted to speak to you, alone. And because I will see even less of you as long as they're here. I miss you, Jon."

Jon sighed.  
"I can't explain it, Robb. Give me some time to find my feet again."

It took Jon a few hours to talk himself into visiting Greyjoy's room. He'd grudgingly taken some food from the kitchens and Robb had left his own cakes with a note that they were meant for Greyjoy.  
When he'd entered the room, Greyjoy was sleeping, but he soon woke up and as he slowly got out of bed, Jon was shocked to see how carefully he moved, how bruised his arms and shoulders were, his belly, his chest, everything covered in dark purple blotches. A small part of Jon rejoyced.  
And he had to confess, having beaten the shit out of him, Jon felt a lot better around him. But when Greyjoy started to follow him around the room, his fury came back full force. When he saw the stupid shit licking his split lip, he nearly exploded. 

After Greyjoy lay on the ground motionless, Jon started to worry he'd gone to far. But when he'd suddenly pressed his lips to Jon's mouth... Jon didn't know his own name anymore.  
He'd fled, coward that he was. 

Now he sat in the Godswood again, hands shaking, eyes closed, unable to have a clear thought. He'd known it, on some level. Known he wasn't interested in girls like he should be. Sure they were pretty and looked soft and nice, but not one of them had ever left Jon's throat so achingly dry, his pulse beating so fast, his anger flaring so red.  
After all Greyjoy'd done to him... he still wanted him to touch him again. Not hurt him like that, obviously. Just touch him. 

Jon laid his head in his hands and silently wept.


	8. Theon III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theon breaks the spell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it were up to me, I'd do this all day. Writing, that is.

Theon smiled. Then gasped. Then mewled. Ouch. He'd forgotten about his damn lip.  
Snow was gone, of course, he couldn't have left faster if he'd just disappeared into thin air. 

And still Theon wanted to follow him. He tried to get up. Ow. Maybe later.

When the sun went down and the feast for the Karstarks would begin soon, Theon had finally managed to talk himself into standing up. Getting some clothes on him was another challenge, and he was completely exhausted when finally presentable. Theon sighed when he caught his reflection in his washing bowl. One of his eyes was swollen and black, his lips were bruised and his hair was a godsawful mess. The hair he could sort out, but the rest had to be left alone. Well, it wasn't going to get any better soon, so he'd might as well get going.

Down in the yard, Theon was met with gasps and stares at his battered face. Robb was standing in front of the stables with Torrhen and little Alys Karstark. When he became aware of Theon and the mess he was, his eyes nearly jumped out of his head. He made a move towards him, but Theon stopped Robb with a small gesture of his hand. He let his eyes wander over the yard, but of course the bastard was nowhere to be seen. Robb seemed to understand who he was looking for. GODSWOOD, he formed with his lips and Theon nodded. Of course. He could feel Robb's worried look on his back when he left.

The leaves whistling under his feet, Theon didn't spot Snow immediately. Then he heard a quiet sob coming from the hot pools. He directed his steps there and sure enough, Snow was sitting by the side of the pool, obviously crying. Theon felt like he couldn't breathe. Slowly he walked towards the silently weeping boy.

Snow didn't hear him coming, he was too lost in his own sorrow. He only noticed when Theon clumsily let himself fall beside him.  
The startled look he gave him nearly killed Theon. Big dark eyes, wet lashes, tears still flowing - Theon's gaze went down a little. Snow's full mouth, that mouth he'd been dreaming of for months now, was pinched into a pitiful frown, the corners twitching when sobs shook the boy's body. He opened it to say something. He didn't stand a chance.

Softly first, his own lips still aching, Theon's mouth touched Snow's. Every inch of him waited for another blow, for Snow to explode again, but instead the bastard opened his lips a little more and welcomed Theon's tongue inside his warm mouth. When Theon broke away again, hours seemed to have passed. Snow's eyes were closed and he was still stiffling a sob every now and then, but for the first time Theon knew him, he didn't seem angry or annoyed with him. Losing his hard-won control, Theon let one hand slip into Snow's hair, to his neck, and drew the boy in again. 

This kiss wasn't so soft, is was full of ache and want and Theon moaned in what was pain and pleasure all the same. He bit down on Snow's lip, not hard but not soft, either. The boy whimpered and Theon let go at once. 

"Am I hurting you?"  
Snow tried to shake his head, but Theon held his neck tight. He needed to hear it.

"No, not there", Snow finally blurted out. "My insides hurt. My... something hurts."

Theon felt like laughing with relief. Instead he kissed Snow once more, passionate this time, and Snow's breath hitched in his throat.

"Does it still hurt?"  
"Worse"  
"I can help you."


	9. Jon V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First times for both of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm all red in the face writing this.

Jon glanced at Greyjoy standing up in front of him, offering his hand. Jon closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He took it.  
His legs like jelly, he let himself being led to the ward's chamber. His heart beat fast and he was nervous beyond belief. Afraid. Scared of himself and what was to come.

Once inside the room, Jon went to stand by the table, playing with some grapes, only to have something to do while Greyjoy bolted the door.  
He was still afraid, so much so he thought he was going to faint any second. Greyjoy lingered at the door, looking pained.

"Please, Snow. Stop looking so panicky. I swear by the Drowned God, I'm not going to hurt you."

Jon tried to relax, he really tried, but his hands were still shaking uncontrollably when he looked down on them. Other hands folded across his, steadying them, caressing them with long, slim fingers.  
Jon felt like he might cry again at the softness of the touch. 

When a single tear left his eye, Greyjoy lifted their intertwined hands to wipe it away. Jon looked up onto Greyjoy's face, finding assurance there, and longing. For the first time, Jon was the one to start a kiss.  
He'd never kissed any other person before Greyjoy and he felt painfully shy with the more experienced man. All the stories about his girls...! And yet here he was, kissed by Jon, a boy, a man, a bastard.

Jon was lost in the feeling of Greyjoy's tongue and lips, until he heard a slow moan escape the Ironborn's throat. His body started aching again, more deeply and more intense than before. 

"Do that sound again. I like it very much", Jon whispered. "Please... Theon?"

At the sound of his name from Jon's lips, Theon seemed to crumble. He pulled Jon close, showering his face with small kisses, nestling into his black curls, his hands at Jon's back, pulling him even closer.  
Their eyes locked and Theon lifted Jon's shirt, threw it away and pressed him softly onto the bed, against the pillows. 

Another slow kiss, then Jon felt Theon's mouth wander from his lips to his eyes, to his jaw, his neck, sucking at the soft skin, until the whole world around him was spinning.  
While still nibbling at Jon's throat, Theon's hands started to stroke over his shoulders, down his arms, caressing his chest and belly with those skilled fingers, until Jon thought he was about to burst.  
He whined when the touches stopped and Theon withdrew. 

Jon opened his eyes and saw the Ironborn staring at him, unsure how far he could go without scaring Jon.

"Won't you... won't you undress?" Jon asked, uncertain.  
Theon smiled with relief and threw his shirt over his head in one swift motion. This time it was Jon who grabbed him, drew him down and kissed him, long, desperately trying to quench the aching in his stomach. 

They lay side by side now; Theon holding Jon; Jon's fingers tracing the bruises he'd left on him the day before. He pressed down on one of them and Theon gasped in pain.  
Jon looked at him curiously. 

"Shall I stop? It's hurting you."

"Don't. Don't stop, I mean. It's a reminder of what I've done."  
Theon's face was serious once more. Jon shuddered in his arms at the memory of the pain. 

But instead of flinching away, he pressed himself tighter to Theon, placing his lips over a bruise on his shoulder bone, and started sucking at the purple mark.  
Theon hissed at the sharp pain but made no move to shove Jon away. Instead, his fingers started to stroke Jon once again, going further this time, over the front of his breeches, where he could feel Jon's cock, hard under the fabric. 

Jon felt himself twitching, and Theon immediately withdrew his hand. Jon wanted to hit him.

"Greyjoy!! Who told you to stop?!"  
The accusation in Jon's voice seemed to be too much for Theon and he started laughing at Jon's hurt expression.

"Sorry, sorry", he chuckled. His hands went back to Jon's breeches, this time unlacing them and pulling them off of him. 

Jon shivered again, this time at the sudden cold.  
"What about yours?"

Theon lifted his brows inquiringly.  
"You sure, Snow? I don't want to... don't want you to.."

"Greyjoy... Theon! Will you hurt me again?"

"No. I will never hurt you again."  
Upon hearing that Jon felt a smile spread across his lips and he looked at Theon longingly.  
Theon seemed shocked and Jon frowned.

"What is it?"

"I think you never smiled at me before, Snow."

Jon's frown deepend. Could that be really true? He supposed so. It felt strange, so he tried to do it again.  
Before he could do or say anything more, Theon had slammed his mouth on Jon's, licking his lips, biting them, sucking his tongue into his mouth; his hands lost in Jon's curls, his cock rock hard in his breeches.

"Gods, Snow, you're killing me for real this time", he breathed into Jon's ear.  
Theon began untangling his own breeches now.  
Jon struggled to help him, getting up on his knees beside Theon, smiling some more at their clumsy efforts.  
He wanted to see him, touch him, feel every inch of him.

At long last they were off, Theon's cock protruding into the cold air. 

Jon blinked. It looked absurdely huge to him and suddenly he wasn't so sure about this anymore.  
Theon seemed to sense his uneasiness and slowly lowered himself back on the bed. 

"Snow. I won't do anything you don't want, I promise. We don't have to do anything at all."  
He looked like he was going to die if Jon were to leave now. But he'd made the promise anyways, and Jon gathered his courage.  
Slowly, he brushed his fingers over the tip of Theon's cock. 

Theon hissed, eyes closed.  
"Damn you, Snow... this was the only part of my body that wasn't aching... until now."


	10. Theon IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theon hurts Jon again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More of that stuff i can never ever read again once i'm finished with it. I'm such a prude, really.

Theon had lost himself. The moment Snow touched his cock, he had to bite on his lips to prevent from spending right then and there like a green boy.  
He made a montrous effort to lie perfectly still, while Snow got acquainted with his cock. He really didn't want to scare the boy, now he had him where he'd wanted him all along.  
Despite this selfish thought, Theon felt a huge softness for Snow, so shy and sweet, spreading through his chest. 'Twas no lie, Snow. I don't hate you, Theon thought to himself. And I really want your mouth-

Theon's eyes flashed open when he felt the bastard's hot mouth covering the tip of his cock, his wet tongue licking slowly across it.  
The sight that greeted him even surpassed his wildest fantasies: Snow's wonderful lips, tightly closed around his cock.  
Snow's mouth started to take in more of Theon, unsure, painfully slow. Theon exploded.

When he saw clearly again, Snow was sitting between his legs, come trickling down his lips, looking pleased and exasperated all at once. 

"Well, that was easy."  
"Don't be so full of yourself, Snow. My cock wasn't touched since... since..."  
Theon tried to sound like his old self again, but failed miserably when he noticed where the sentence was going. He sat up, a decision forming in his head.

"You know what I want to do, Snow. You know it. I won't, if you don't consent. But... but..."  
How could he say this without sounding horribly false and selfish?  
"I think you need me to."

Snow swallowed, hard. His hands were shaking again, his eyes pinched, his lovely lips pressed together.  
Theon wanted to shake him. He also wanted to hug him close, comfort him, tell him there's nothing to fear.  
Just as he reached out, Snow opened his eyes again. 

"I.. I think you're right. If I want you to make love to me, I'll need to forget, I'll need to... to..."

Theon's heart stopped at Snow's choice of words. It felt like he was melting like ice in the summer. He cursed himself soundlessly. What a stupid boy. This wasn't love making, this was... just sex, wasn't it? Sure, he felt incredibly sorry for what he'd done, he didn't want to hurt Snow ever again, but love? How could he make love to a boy, a MAN, a bastard, a Stark - even if not by name? He was Ironborn. He couldn't.  
But he could fuck him.

With that last thought, Theon drew Snow's face to his, kissing him hard, harder than he'd intended to. But the boy didn't back away, he kissed back even harder, fiercer, perhaps to cover his own fear.  
Theon sighed, feeling his cock harden again, when Snow nipped again at his bruises, his nipples; when he slid his tongue across Theon's stomach, when he softly kissed the insides of his thighs.  
By the time Snow came to his cock again, Theon was more than ready. 

"Go over to the table, There's a small flask somewhere. Bring it here."  
Snow did as he was told, curiosity clearly getting the better of him. 

"Now pour a bit of it on my hands."

When he had done that as well, Theon grabbed Snow's cock with his now slick fingers and Snow gasped in surprise. Theon started stroking, admiring the soft texture of the bastard's prick, growing even harder under his touch. Strange, Theon mused, he'd never thought he'd ever touch a cock other than his own, yet here he was, and it felt fantastic.  
Snow seemed to think that, too, for he was a writhing mess by the point Theon started stroking his own cock, slicking it with the oil from the flask.  
He poured some more on his fingers as well and started stroking Snow's crack slowly, softly, until he was sure he was welcome. 

Achingly slow, he breached the muscle of the tight entrance with a finger, all the while watching Snow's face and stroking his cock. 

"Am I hurting you?"

"No... no... more of an uncomfortable feeling, really. keep going."  
After a couple more minutes, Theon added a second finger. Jon's hands were clenched to fists beside his rigid body and Theon stopped. 

"Too much?"  
"Just... don't move for a second... it's alright, it's not hurting me.. much."

Theon waited. When Snow nodded at him, he started pulling his fingers out, pushing them in again, the motion now easier and meeting no hindrance anymore. Snow just seemed to relax a little, when Theon curled his fingers upward and suddenly Snow bucked against his hand, gasping and shuddering. Theon grinned, pleased with himself. He'd known such a spot existed in every man since Ros, one of the whores in Wintertown, had shown him the pleasure it could bring. 

"Theon..."  
Snow was completely out of breath.  
"Theon... I want you to... please... I'm scared, Theon, but I want it!!!"  
"Come on, Snow, look at me."

Snow locked his gaze on Theon's. Slowly, Theon started to push his cock into his hole. Snow's breath hitched, tears began to form at the corners of his eyes, and suddenly Theon was overcome by such gentleness for the boy, he thought his heart was going to burst. He took Snow's face in his hands, cradling it softly, stroking his hair, wiping the tears away with his thumbs, all the while carefully pushing harder, shoving deeper.  
Snow whimpered lowly and Theon seized his mouth at once, trying to kiss away the pain, to ease him into the feeling of being stretched. 

After what seemed like an agonizing eternity, Theon could feel his crotch touching Snow's asscheeks. He stopped moving, cradling the boy close to his chest, kissing every inch of his face, murmuring encouragements into his curls. Then Snow spoke.

"Could you... could you please move? I want you to."  
And Theon did the best he could to be as considerate, as careful, as tender as he could possibly be. After a while he sped up his thrusts, all the while holding Snow tight in his arms. Then, Snow's voice again.

"Touch me, please. Theon, I want you to touch me."  
"I have to let go of you to do this. I don't want to let go."  
"Please..."

Reluctantly, Theon straightened up a little, just so much as he needed to close his fingers around Snow's cock. In rhythm with his thrusts, Theon started stroking and it wasn't long before Snow came all over his hand. The utter relief and gratefulness in Snow's eyes was to much for Theon and with a last hard thrust he spent inside Snow, burying his face once again in those soft black curls, breathing in Jon's scent. Jon's. Jon. Jon. Theon's eyes snapped open in horror. 

"I have to go. If anyone finds us... I have to go!" He backed away from the warm body he didn't want to let go a moment before.  
Jon (Jon!) sat up, confusion, hurt and a hint of impatience in his eyes. 

"You do realize that this is your room, right? You could... come to my room though? No one ever comes looking for me, no one would see us."  
"What do you want, Snow? I may be a lord of the Iron Islands one day, but that doesn't make my cock iron. I've come twice tonight. I'm really really done for now."  
"Not for that, you dimwit! Just for... for company."

And Theon could see the pain, then the anger in Jon's... Snow's! face when he smiled his normal arrogant smile once again.  
"What a girl you are, Snow. Getting fucked, and then you're too scared to sleep alone."

Snow was out of the bed in a flash, gathering his things, the door slamming into the lock and he was gone.  
Theon let himself sink back into the furs. They smelled like Jon.  
What a fucking mess, he thought.


	11. Robb II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robb isn't so clueless anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Robb's such a sweetling.

Everything was back to normal... or almost.  
Robb wasn't entirely sure. 

At least Theon was his old cocky self, disappearing in the evening, returning drunk and rather full of himself.  
Jon wasn't avoiding Robb anymore, but he still seemed quieter than before. Sometimes he would just stare into nothing until Robb shoved him or shouted at him.  
The two of them were firmly back on their old interactions, Theon making his cruel little japes, Jon pouting and ignoring the Ironborn where he could. But something was still strange.

Robb was sure he was seeing things now. Sometimes he could swear he sees Theon look at Jon with a kind of... regret? Guilt? It had never bothered him how he treated Robb's bastard brother before, so why now?  
And Jon... when he thought no one was looking at him, he stared at Theon, sometimes angry, which was normal, but sometimes... Robb didn't know. It was strange. But he couldn't be sure he wasn't seeing things after all.

On a particularly chilly summer night Robb woke up with a jolt. He tried to wrap his furs tighter around him, tried to go back to sleep, but to no avail. Pacing up and down in his room he considered what he could do. Bathing seemed like a good idea, but he didn't want to go alone, so he went to Theon's chambers. When no one answered his knocks, he pushed against the door and to his surprise it opened. No one there, of course.  
Where was Theon at this godsawful hour? Probably still in Wintertown, Robb mused.  
But when he tried Jon's room, there was no one there either and Jon would rather be found dead than in Wintertown. So where was he?

Maybe, Robb thought, he's had the same idea as me. Yes, I'm sure he'll be at the hot springs. 

Robb hastened his steps. His feet felt like ice. When he neared the hot springs he was surprised to hear someone speak. Maybe Jon was praying? He went slower now, not wanting to interrupt his brother.  
But as he came closer he could distinguish two voices. When he recognized the second voice, Robb stopped dead in his tracks.

"Come on, Snow. Don't act as if it was all bad. I know it wasn't."

"I'm not saying it was all bad. I never said that. But I don't want to do it again."

"But why? You did like it, come on, Snow, be honest with yourself."

"I did. That's why I can't go through that again. Don't you understand, Theon?"

Theon?? Robb was gobsmacked. He'd never heard Jon call the Ironborn anything other than Greyjoy, or asshole, or just "you".

Theon sighed.  
"I do and I don't. Can't we have some fun? It's not like we could get married anyways./p>

Married???? 

Theon groaned. Apparently Jon had punched him.  
"You are such a stupid jackass, you know that? Who's talking of anything like this? All I expected was... a little more... camaraderie... from you.

"What, more of this?"

Robb crept closer. Both of them were sitting in the smallest of the pools. Jon was in front of Theon, leaning back into him. Just as they came into view, Theon lifted Jon's damp hair from his neck and placed a tender kiss on his nape. 

"Something like this, yeah", Robb heard Jon murmur. He wasn't feeling cold anymore. How in the seven hells had that happened?

He watched, slack-jawed, as Theon shifted a little and wrapped his arms around Jon, resting his chin on his shoulder.  
"You're such a romantic, Snow. Well - I can live with that, if I get what I want as well." And he bit into Jon's neck.

Jon squirmed, Theon's arms restraining him.  
"The Others take you and your wants, Greyjoy!"  
But he didn't sound angry at all to Robb's ears.


	12. Jon VI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Questions and Answers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last one for today. Sorry for reposting their conversation but it felt necessary

Theon had found Jon at the springs earlier that night.

"I was searching for you, Snow. Want to drink with me in your room tonight?"

"Piss off."

"Still have your smallclothes in a twist, have you?"

And before Jon could answer that, Theon was gliding into the water beside him. 

"Come here, Snow, I won't bite."  
Jon hated himself for complying so easily. But the past days since their... encounter... he'd missed Theon so much he'd forgive him nearly everything by now. So he skidded closer to Theon until he was practically sitting in his lap.  
He felt the Ironborn grow hard against his backside immediately.

"Greyjoy! You can't do that!!"

"Come on, Snow. Don't act as if it was all bad. I know it wasn't."

"I'm not saying it was all bad. I never said that. But I don't want to do it again."

"But why? You did like it, come on, Snow, be honest with yourself."

"I did. That's why I can't go through that again. Don't you understand, Theon?"

"I do and I don't. Can't we have some fun? It's not like we could get married anyway.

"You are such a stupid jackass, you know that? Who's talking of anything like this? All I expected was... a little more... camaraderie... from you.

"What, more of this?"

...

And Jon didn't want to say no anymore. Curiously, Theon made no move to leave the pool for now. He seemed content with Jon in his lap, placing soft kisses every so often behind his ears, on his nape, on his shoulders... If a little distance was what had brought on this tenderness, Jon wasn't going to complain about it.

When Theon broke the silence, it was a question that Jon had never expected at all.

"Do you think Robb will tell his Lord father to have my head for defiling his virgin half-brother? If he ever found out?"  
Jon snickered.  
"I don't think so. You're his friend. He wouldn't want to hurt any of us.

A low snort came from behind the trees. Jon tried to turn around but his mouth was immediately seized by Theon.  
"Stop that, you oaf! Did you hear something?"  
"You're being paranoid, Snow. I don't want to be caught in the act, either, but I'm not starting to see watchers behind every bush. Come here again"

And Jon let himself sink into Theon's arms once more. Suddenly a thought crossed his mind.  
"Theon?"  
"Hmmmm?", he answered with Jon's earlobe between his teeth.  
"What did you tell the Maester to get that salve for my ass?"

Theon let go of him and coughed. Jon turned around curiously. Theon was bright red.  
"Come on, tell me. I want to know if he could deduce anything by it."  
"No he won't."  
"How can you be so sure he won't?"  
"If you must know... I told him I took a gigantic shit and tore myself up."

Jon couldn't help himself, he roared with laughter and relief, turning around fully and straddling Theon's lap.  
Theon was still clearly embarassed, but grinned at Jon's helpless laughter.,  
Neither of them heard the chuckle behind the trees.  
"What did you think I told him? I fucked the bastard of Winterfell raw without asking and now I have to go mend it?"

Jon still grinned when another sound coming from the trees startled him. This time it sounded like growling.  
"Ssssh! Theon, seriously, something's there."

Theon sighed.  
"Would you feel better, dear Lady Snow, if I go and have a look?"  
"Yes I would - Greyjoy!!! Stop that Lady-Snow-nonsense!!" 

And Jon made his best pouty mouth at Theon, only to be rewarded with a long, demanding kiss.  
He was so lost in it, he didn't hear someone stealing away from them, back to the castle.


	13. Ned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ned knows everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Ned. Don't we all?

Lord Eddard Stark was troubled.

His boys were giving him trouble, all three of them. 

Jon, sulking more than ever before, going for Theon at practice like a madman, watching Theon's every move throughout the day. Ned knew that look. He'd spent enough time around Robert's baby brother when they were younger and the only difference was that Jon had never acted on his inclination. Ned was worried about him. The world was cruel enough, let alone to his kind. And he was even more worried when he came to realize that Jon's gazes were all for Theon. And he had stopped pestering Ned about the Wall. 

Theon, teasing Jon mercilessly but gods forbid another dared to slight the boy. That night at dinner Cat had given him cold stares and cruel little remarks until Jon had pushed away his plate and left. Ned hated it when she was like this, but he could hardly reprimand her. It was no surprise seeing Arya glare at her mother through the rest of the dinner, but seeing Theon do the same had Ned thinking. When Cat directed her words at Theon, he practically snarled at her before leaving the table as well. Ned knew all too well where he was going. He sighed. He had to admit, the Greyjoy boy surprised him. On the other hand, he fucked everything with a pulse, really. Ned had to confess, he'd love to see the look on Balon Greyjoy's face if he'd ever learn of his son's antics.

Even Robb behaved out of character, not letting the two of them out of his sight, scrutinizing every tiny look, every interaction with narrowed eyes. He probably found out and didn't know what to do about it. Ned understood his confusion, and he really was relieved that his firstborn and heir didn't show the same inclinations. He'd have to talk with him some day, though, explain things like this.

Ned wasn't sure how to act upon the matter. He remembered his own youth, his handsome best friend Robert and their games when they discovered the pleasures of the flesh. But of course they grew out of it soon enough. Ned had hoped Jon would too, but the more he saw the less he deemed it likely. On the contrary, he suspected Jon might have more feelings for Theon than he'd ever let on. And he was young, and vulnerable, and Theon was Theon.

Although not his son, Ned loved his Ironborn ward all the same. He tried to never treat him different from his own sons, but Cat wouldn't have it most of the time. She didn't trust Theon as near as Moat Cailin, as she always said. And of course, he had to think of Theon as his enemy's son, too. It brought him no joy, having the boy assist him when he had to execute the deserter the other day, but it was necessary.  
Ned didn't know what he'd do if Balon Greyjoy was to rebel again. He couldn't just kill one of his boys, a young man who had no part in his father's crime. Sometimes he thought he might offer Theon a choice. Pledge for the Starks or... or. Ned didn't want to dwell on it.

He loved Theon, he did, but he also knew him. And this knowledge made him fear for Jon. The boy had it hard enough with Cat's contempt. He looked like Ned a lot, which was good of course, but it didn't help him with Cat. And Ned couldn't do anything to change that.

And now Jon Arryn was dead and the King was coming to Winterfell. Ned felt like his head would explode with all the things to worry about.  
Mayhaps it was best if he let Jon become a brother of the Night's Watch after all. It would separate him from Theon, and Benjen could have an eye on him. He wasn't sure if Jon still wanted it, though.  
Ned's resolve fastened. He had to talk to Theon. 

A few days before the King's expected arrival, Ned saw Jon and Theon sneak off after practice, surely for the hot pools. He gave them an hour before he followed. When he came closer he just saw Jon kissing Theon passionately, whispering something in his ear before leaving the Godswood. He didn't see Ned, and when he was gone, Ned coughed loudly.  
Theon spun around, horror plain on his face, white as sheet. 

"L...Lord Sta-sta-stark???"  
Ned sighed. The young man nearly fainted in fear and Ned shook his head. He wasn't that strict a warden, was he?

"Calm down, Theon. I'm not going to harm you. I just want to talk."


	14. Theon V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theon fulfills his duty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meh.

Theon couldn't believe his luck.  
Every night without fail he would visit Snow's room, and every night without fail Snow would be waiting for him, naked under his furs, ready for Theon's hands, lips and cock.  
He never shied away from anything, and all Theon had to do to keep him that compliant was a few cuddles and kisses here and there. 

They only nearly fought that one time, when Snow had wanted Theon to finish him off with something other than his hand. Jon had looked so beautiful and perfect in his arms that Theon had nearly given in to anything the bastard would've wanted. But not that.  
"I'm Balon Greyjoy's last living son and heir to the Iron Islands, Snow! I will never have a cock anywhere else than my hands, that clear?"

The disappointment in Snow's eyes was hard to stomach, so Theon tried to make up for it by being especially gentle the next days.  
And he became quite protective of the bastard, too. He really had to keep himself from being too hostile to Lady Stark and Sansa, both of them treating Snow with contempt. He wasn't theirs to torment.  
He was Theon's. Theon's bastard. Theon's toy. Theon's Jon.

All in all, it was pretty perfect until Ned Stark caught him at the pools. Theon was besides himself with fear.  
But Lord Stark said he only wanted to talk. And he did. 

He never reprimanded Theon for his actions, never even questioned them. But he did question Theon's motives. And Theon couldn't even blame him.  
And he'd promised. Promised to end it with Snow. Soon. But the thought tore Theon apart. 

That night, when he came into Snow's chamber, he knew what he had to do. Still, he couldn't.  
Snow was waiting for him, all naked and rosy and shy, his arms opening for Theon when he approached the bed.  
He just couldn't. 

And he was so gentle with Snow that night, he caressed him so tenderly, kissed him so softly...  
When he fucked him, he looked into his eyes the whole time, his hands not leaving Snow's face for a second.  
After Theon had finished, he stroked Snow to completion, then lay next to him, still caressing his curls. 

"Don't go today. Stay." Always the same plea from Snow's lips and today Theon complied. He pulled the furs over their bodies and wrapped his arms around Snow, pressing his face to the boy's neck, inhaling his familiar scent. Just one more time. His lips found Snow's and he kissed him, growing more passionate every second. It was the last time.  
He grabbed Snow, grabbed him so hard it had to hurt, but the boy didn't protest, he pressed himself even harder on Theon's body, letting himself drown in his kisses.  
And when he entered Snow's body again, his face hidden in his curls, his voice sighing his name over and over again, Theon just let go. 

"Jon... Jon..." he mumbled into his neck, over and over again.  
And Jon looked at him with such awe and love in his eyes that Theon felt like crying. 

He spent the night at Jon's chamber, for the first time, for the last time, he held him close and watched him sleep, knowing what he had to do on the morrow.  
When Jon woke up the next day, he blinked at Theon, surprised and delighted to find him to still be there.  
Theon closed his eyes, he composed himself, hard, and when he opened his eyes again, he knew there was nothing left but contempt for Jon to see. 

Jon was confused, Theon could feel it, he could nearly taste the hurt before it even spread.  
He didn't back down. 

"Well, thank you for the lovely fuck, Snow. Don't think I'll come again. Back to the wenches it is, for me at least. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed you well enough, but you're starting to bore me."  
And he slipped off the bed, leaving Jon behind, leaving his heart behind in Jon's hands. Jon got up too. 

"Don't, Theon. Please."

But Theon was already half dressed, and he gave Jon his best arrogant smirk. 

"I love you."

These words nearly had Theon undone. That stupid boy! What was he thinking?!

"That's your own fault, I didn't tell you to. What did you think, we'd be, like, a couple? Drowned God, Snow, it's just fucking!!"  
He expected Jon to raise his fist, to smack him into the ground, hells, he even hoped for it.  
But Jon only stood there, staring at him. His face had gone blank. "Out." His voice was calm, uninterested even.

Theon didn't linger. He went to his own room, flinging himself onto the furs, thinking of the look of betrayal and heartbreak on Jon's face when he started talking, crying for the first time in what must've been years.  
When he went down for breakfast a couple of hours later, Jon was nowhere to be seen. Theon was thankful for it.  
When Lord Stark threw him a questioning glance, Theon nodded slightly. 

He'd done his duty, and now he just hoped he would some day be able to feel like himself again.


	15. Jon VII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon goes away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want them to be happy, but it is GoT-universe after all.

Jon ate.  
Jon answered when he was asked a question.  
Jon practised with Robb and Ser Rodrik.  
Jon greeted the King with the others.  
Jon watched the feast from the lower banks.  
Jon met the Imp.  
Jon greeted his uncle Benjen when he arrived.  
Jon got permission from his father to join the Night's Watch.  
Jon said his goodbyes to Bran after he fell from that tower.  
Jon said goodbye to Robb.  
Jon left Winterfell.  
Jon said goodbye to his father.  
Jon arrived at the wall.  
Jon got to know his new brothers.  
Jon learned to hate Ser Alliser Thorne.  
Jon found a friend in Sam.  
Jon was named stewart to Lord Commander Mormont.

Jon did everything that was expected of him. No one would have noticed the hell inside him. He even laughed sometimes.  
But every night, every single night he fought to go to sleep, and yet he dreaded it all the same. Because every single night the dreams would come.  
They tormented him, they nearly killed him. Every single night the same. Hearing Theon say his name, feeling his arms around him, hearing the last words he said to him.  
Over and over and over again. There was no escape. 

When he had a chat with Sam about girls, he nearly blurted out with it. Instead he told him of the one time he had been with Ros.  
But later, when they had watch duty on top of the wall, he couldn't keep it to himself any longer.  
He desperately wanted to talk to someone about it.

"Sam. When we were talking earlier... I haven't been honest to you. There was someone. Someone I liked very much. Someone I did everything with."  
Sam was curious.  
"What was her name? And why did you withhold her until now?"  
"Because he broke my heart."

Sam didn't realize at once. When he did, his eyes grew as big as dinner plates. 

"He..? Oh. OH! I didn't realize you were... you are... are you?"  
"I don't know. I kinda like girls. They smell nice. But him... that was something else altogether."  
"You loved him." It was not a question.  
"I did. And it was stupid. He never loved me back, seven hells, I don't think he even liked me. He just... used me."  
"I'm sorry, Jon. I'm really sorry."  
"Thank you, Sam. Have I shocked you to the core?"  
"Nah... it's alright. Of course I'm surprised... but your secret is save with me!"

After that, Jon felt slightly better.


	16. Theon VI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theon goes to war with Robb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor boys

Theon looked up from his cup.  
In front of him, arm dropped over his face, sat the King in the North. 

It had all happened so quickly.  
Ned Stark's arrest, his execution, then Robb's proclamation as King in the North by his bannermen.  
Theon had pledged his sword to Robb that very night. He was his brother, in all but blood.

And now the King in the North was absolutely hammered.  
He had himself promised to some Frey Girl, when really all he wanted was that beauty from Volantis who ran around covered in blood and pus and whatnot all the time.  
So he'd decided to get wasted, just for one night, forget about the Freys and the war and everything, for one night.  
Of course Theon kept his king company. He was to sail for the Iron Islands soon, to get his father to fight for Robb, to give him his ships.

Theon dreaded that reunion and he needed to drink himself into a stupor as much as Robb.  
Then suddenly Robb dropped his arm and fixed Theon through bloodshot eyes.

"Whatever happened between you and Jon?"  
Theon was gobsmacked. How did he even come up with that now??

"What do you mean, your Grace?"  
Robb groaned.  
"Stop that. We're alone. I'm Robb. Just Robb. And don't take me for a fool, Theon. Answer my question."

"I really have no idea-"  
"Stop bullshitting me, I said! I saw you at the pools one day. And you weren't that subtle, anyways. All those secret glances, fingers brushing when you were standing next to each other, all that stuff. Every blind man would've seen it. So, what happened?"

Theon gave up.  
"If you must know: I fucked him and then I stopped fucking him and he was pissed. End of story."  
"Start at the beginning."  
"You don't want to hear that."  
"You're probably right, I heard enough at the pools that time, about some salve from Maester Luwin."  
Theon felt his face flush with heat.

Robb cocked an eyebrow.  
"I nearly came out to kill you when I realized what you were talking about. You hurt Jon."  
"I did. But I made amends. And then, he wanted me to fuck him."  
"I know, I know. As I said, subtle isn't a word in Jon's vocabulary. Or yours. But what happened? You seemed quite happy to me."

Uninvited, Theon's mind produced a picture of Jon, from the morning when he'd left him. He grimaced in pain.  
"I was. But your father-"  
"He found out???"  
"I think he knew from the start. But he said it seemed to be too serious for Snow and that I shouldn't lead him on. And he was right. So I ended things."  
"And not gently, knowing you."  
"I was an evil shit, Stark, there was no other way. You should've seen his face-"  
"I saw his face. Every fucking day until he left. I think you don't know what you've done to him."

Theon moaned.  
"I know it, Robb, really. I did care about him, more than he'll ever know. More than I'll ever care to admit. But what could I do? Elope with him to Dorne? Take him with me if I ever go back to the Iron Islands and keep him hidden in my chambers? There's no future for two men in this world. No matter how much they... they... mean to each other."

"You loved him. You love him still."  
Robb sounded astounded at his own realization. 

Theon shook his head.  
"I don't. Robb, I can't. I'll never see him again, he went and buried himself up there and I'll never see him again. He wouldn't want to, after what I've done. He shouldn't."

Then, he couldn't bite back from asking.  
"If you had found out earlier, before we became... would you have killed me for hurting him?"

And when he looked up it was the King in the North who answered, his eyes cold.  
"Yes." No hesitation, no doubt.

Theon swallowed. Words from before echoed in his mind.  
Am I your brother, now and always? Now and always.


End file.
